


The History Books Forgot About Us

by ifitgivesyoujoy



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:05:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitgivesyoujoy/pseuds/ifitgivesyoujoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A slightly skewed re-imagining of the scene before the balcony scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The History Books Forgot About Us

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from the song "Samson" by Regina Spektor. Apologies for my attempts at period dialogue - by no means am I trying to be Shakespearean.

Mercutio swung himself onto the wall into sitting position. "Oh, there's our man. Only barely visible beyond the trees, crouched beneath his lady's balcony."

"It is not for our eyes!" Benvolio hissed, hanging onto the wall with both arms. "Come, we must leave him to his devices. If he is to eavesdrop upon a poor maid, it is no business of ours."

Instead of jumping down, Mercutio grabbed his friend's arm and helped him to sit on the wall. "See how she blushes!" he continued. "Clasping together her soft white hands. I can just hear her words now - 'Ay me, Romeo! Thou dearest to my heart, nearest to my breast, the glove that trails along my virgin -"

"Prithy thee, hush," Benvolio urged, though he had given up on leaving. "If thou canst not leave love to lovers, at least hold thy tongue on the matter."

Mercutio tipped back his head and laughed softly, dark curls falling away from his tanned skin. "Dost thou not see?" he said. "This is the love that dreams create. This is the love that has been recounted since Queen Mab first began her haunts. I can no more hold my tongue than any other man."

Benvolio was quiet for a moment. He glanced at the two lovers and heard the familiar lilts of Romeo's impassioned speech. He glanced away. "Aye," he said. "The great historians shall etch their story in stone, and tell it with stars glistening in their eyes. It is a love that shall catch the world aflame, for it is a love that every lover dost understand."

A hand grazed over Benvolio's cheek and bid his eyes to avert from the ground. "Thou art wrong," Mercutio said. "Not every lover understands balconies and moonlight and passionate declarations."

Benvolio's breath hitched. "I have yet to hear an historian recount awkward fumbles made between friends in the black of night."

"Or the reeling of a mind made confused by a thousand damning voices."

"Or a look shared in a room where discovery could mean shame."

"Or a kiss shared on a garden wall while spying on a lovesick comrade." Mercutio closed the last inches between their faces. Benvolio leaned in, pouring himself into the connection of their lips, commiting the sweetness and the heat to his memory. When they pulled away, it was far too soon, and Benvolio found his face flushing in the cool air.

He glanced back at the balcony - Romeo had scaled the trellis, and was making his own connection with the Capulet maid. "It is our time to depart, I think. Leave history to be made on its own."

Mercutio's smile was a sunrise playing in his eyes. "Then let us find a place where we shall not be remembered."

They slid off the wall and landed hard on the dirt and grass. Mercutio almost slipped, and Benvolio caught his arm. They met briefly, foreheads pressing together, breath mingling.

Mercutio smirked and slung an arm across Benvolio's shoulders. They fell into step together, leaving the immortal scene to be remembered without them.


End file.
